


Liars and Lyres

by CrzyFun



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Because ravagers, Gen, and yondu gets hurt, kraglin's only 5-6 years older than peter, so t just to be careful, there's some language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-09 12:16:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11668944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrzyFun/pseuds/CrzyFun
Summary: Peter Quill is not what you'd call the average Terran. That was clear from the moment he grabbed the infinity stone. Of course, everyone just passed it off to his father's heritage.No one ever thought to consider that Meredith Quill wasn't the average Terran either. No one besides Peter that is.





	1. Curses

“Captain…”

Yondu groaned, but didn’t open his eyes. “Are we about to fly into a black hole?”

“Uh, no?”

“That’s funny, because I’m pretty sure I told the lot of you that  _ that _ was the  _ only _ reason I was to be disturbed,” Yondu growled. He turned over and finally opened his eyes and was surprised to see Kraglin.

_ Maybe I oughta find someone else to watch after the Terran brat if the kid’s this crazy, _ he mused as he watched him squirm under his gaze.

“I-I- Yes sir, but Nax told me to come get you,” Kraglin stuttered. “Thinks you're the only one that’ll get him to stop.”

“Get who to stop?”

“Well, couple of the boys stole that stupid music-man thing of the runt’s and the kid kicked up a fuss-”

Yondu groaned again. “Just tell Nax to make them give it back and remind them that Quill’s one of us now an’ we don’t steal from one another.”

“That’s not the problem, sir. Quill got it back on his own.”

“He did?” Yondu knew the kid was a fighter -- had the teeth marks to prove it -- but that hardly meant he expected the kid to come out of a fight the victor. The ravager captain rolled back over. “Good for him. Why you botherin’ me again?”

“Quill… did something to them. I don’t know what he did, exactly -- wasn’t there -- but it shocked them enough that they dropped the thing so the kid wisely grabbed it and ran. And now the boys are out for blood. Kid managed to get up into the vents, but the boys have got him cornered. Nax is just barely keeping them back. He tried to get the kid out, but Quill just did it to him too. So now Nax says if you don’t get the kid out and make him fix them all, he’s just gonna let the boys have at it.”

Yondu briefly wondered what that said about his crew if even his second in command couldn’t handle some little Terran brat.

_ Oughta just launch the whole lot of them into a star and start from scratch. _

“What’d the boy do to them to get ‘em all riled up?”

There was silence. 

Yondu was about ready to yell when a small snicker floated to him from behind his back.

Slowly, the captain turned to see the cabin boy fighting off laughter. A sharp whistle sent the chuckles down real quick.

“You think this is a game?” Yondu growled as Kraglin backed away from his arrow, hands in the air.

“N-no, sir. Just… I don’t know how to… You gotta see it for yourself, sir. It’s…” Kraglin swallowed as his back hit the wall.

He glared at the boy for a short time before sighing. He quickly rolled to his feet, snatched up his jacket and belt, and slipped them on. He grabbed his arrow out of the air before shoving the boy towards the door. “Lead, now, before I change my mind.”

“Yessir!”

_ Yeah, a star’s sounding really good right about now. _

In the end, it was pretty easy to find the kid and his mini mob. All you had to do was follow the laughter. When the two finally reached the crowd, it was to find them not doing a mix of goading on the adult ravagers and jeering at the baby one -- as was typical for spectators of a Peter-Problem -- but instead laughing their heads off at whatever was happening at the crowds center.

A good helping of the laughter definitely sounded far too young for the average ravager, though that wasn’t completely uncommon in this kind of situation. Usually the boy was the one who started those fights though.

As Yondu approached, the crowd easily parted, some of them just stepping off to the sides and others fleeing back to the jobs they were supposed to be doing before the captain’s ire fell on them. At the center, a half dozen unamused ravagers were being held back by a dozen highly amused ones while next to them Yondu’s first mate glared up at a section of vents that was framed on either side by open holes where grating should be.

“Get out here boy, or I swear I’ll enjoy, the pain you’ll go through, when I’m done with you! So get out of the vent, or to the galley you’ll be sent!” Nax yelled, his voice carrying a rhythm that sounded out of place coming from the gruff Aakon.

Kraglin snickered from just behind Yondu and the captain raised an eyebrow. “Why the hell you talking like that?”

The first mate spun around. “Captain there you are! This time he’s gone too far! Tell him to make it stop, or I swear his head will drop!”

“Stop what? From what I see all the kid’s doing is laughing in the vents.”

“It’s a curse, captain, that our mouths are trapped in,” one of the restrained ravagers spat. “And if he doesn’t set us free, we will split him into three!”

The other five repeated the last sentence with a matching cadence that completely undermined the vicious words.

Yondu groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

_ A star’s too good for these idiots. _

“BOY!”

There was a moment of silence then Quill poked his head just far enough out of the vent opening near Yondu for the boy to see him.

“Hi Yondu.”

“What the hell’s going on here?” Nax opened his mouth, but Yondu held his hand up to stop him. “You shut up. I can't stand your voice right now.”

Quill snickered and slipped out of the vent enough to point at the restrained ravagers. “They stole my walkman! So I shot them with the shocker gun that Kraglin gave me.”

Kraglin flinched when Yondu turned to him. “He was only supposed to use it on the orloni in the vents! I told you that was only for the orloni!”

The boy shrunk back into the vent, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “Ugly like orloni.”

“Boy, what happened next?”

“I dunno. They dropped my walkman so I grabbed it and ran to hide. When they found me they were talking all funny.”

“He did it, the halfwit!”

The boy frowned and cocked his head to the side. “Me? How could I make you talk funny?”

“It was a spell, as you know well!”

“Spell?” the boy snorted. “Only babies believe in magic!”

“And what about me?” Nax growled. “What else could that be?”

Quill shrugged. “Maybe you hit your head when you fell out of the vent after I kicked you away?”

“You li-”

“Enough!” Yondu shouted. “So let me get this straight, I got woken up because the lot of you got your brains fried or pounded so now you’re talking like idiots?” Nax looked furious, but Yondu couldn't care less. “Do any of you got any proof that the kid’s responsible aside from said frying and pounding? Huh? Did any of you see any hand waving, spell saying, flashes of light, or anything else to say the boy did something?”

One of the ravagers opened his mouth.

“It's a yes or no question. No talking stupid rhymes necessary.”

The six begrudgingly shook their heads.

“Nax?”

His first mate ground his teeth, but shook his head.

“Anyone else?”

Blessed silence.

“Then I don't wanna hear another word about this. It wasn't no asgardian sorcerer we picked up. It's a baby Terran that wouldn't know real magic if it struck him on the ass. He's barely got the brains to do his chores, let alone play around with your heads.”

An offended noise came from the vents, but Yondu ignored it.

“Now get lost before I decide I wanna let off some frustration with target practice!”

The crowd quickly fled, leaving just Yondu, Nax, Kraglin, and Quill.

“Alright Quill, you gonna get out here or you planning to clean all the vents from top to bottom.”

“I just cleaned them all!” the kid huffed, but his head was quickly replaced by his feet as he backed out of the vent before dropping down with a little “Oomph!”

Yondu grabbed him by the ear before he could do anything stupid and started towing him to the Captain's Quarters.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Let go!”

In the end, it took the seven a week before they could talk normal, and a week more before they were all dead as a result of a poorly planned mutiny.

Yondu didn't put much thought into the whole thing. He didn't know what had screwed up their heads, but he was sure it wasn't the kid.

 

 


	2. Marksman

“Bet you fifty units he knocks his teeth out with his first shot, Captain,” Kraglin teased, nudging Quill as they marched through the trees to a safe enough distance from the m-ship for the Terran’s first shooting lesson.

“I ain't gonna knock my teeth out!” the boy huffed as his arms lowered the blaster from a position that promised to do just that.

“Uh huh, sure.”

“I'm serious! Shooting is in my blood! I'm amazing with my bow. Mama says I'm a natural marksman and everyone at summer camp says I do papa proud. Aunt Nissa even said she was gonna teach me trick shots, ‘cept she never got to because _someone_ _abducted me_!”

Kraglin rolled his eyes and Yondu snorted. Quill didn't know how lucky he was they'd taken him in.

“Kid, a bow ain't anything like a quad blaster,” Yondu said, stopping to look around a small clearing. “Honestly, didn't think Terrans were so backward to still be using such primitive tech.”

“We don't, normally. It's just a summer camp thing.”

Kraglin rolled his eyes. Quill calling something a  _ summer camp thing _ was basically his excuse for everything. Kid can't sit still for five minutes, it's a summer camp thing. Kid can't read for shit, despite Yondu going through the hassle of finding a Terran to Common learners reading program, a summer camp thing. A kid too young to fight by all but the worst Kree standards knows how to spar, a summer camp thing.

“Besides, you use an arrow.”

“My yaka is special.”

“Yeah, it’s way more boring. Sure, it glows and can catch fire, but some of the guys at summer camp can make arrows that do that too. Heck, Mama told me Uncle Jesse’s girlfriend once made him arrows that exploded like fireworks! You don't even have to aim it or work a bow. You just,” the boy whistled a tune, “and the thing flies off, without any hard work or skill necessary.”

Kraglin pinched his lips and took a step back at the expression on his captain’s face.

“No skill, huh? If it's so easy, why don't you control it?”

“I've tried,” the boy sighed and Kraglin realized the boy legitimately had a death wish.  _ No one _ messed with Yondu’s arrow. “But no matter how well I match your tone and pitch, it won't do anything.”

“Guess it takes a bit of skill after all.”

“That, or a glowy red metal mohawk,” the boy muttered, bringing up the gun again.

Yondu smacked the back of his head. “Shut up, boy. And you're gonna lose me fifty units holding the thing like that. Kraglin, go make us a target while I show this idiot how to hold a gun.”

Kraglin shrugged and headed off across the cleaning as Yondu knelt next to Quill. “Do we really need an actual target? Kid probably won't even hit the tree we tell him to aim at.”

“Hey! I told you I'm a natural marksman!”

Kraglin sunk his knife into a tree and started carving a large star. “Uh huh, sure.”

“I'm serious! I… I'll bet you fifty units I'll hit the target!”

“You don't have fifty units,” Kraglin snorted.

“‘S not my fault  _ somebody _ doesn't pay me for all the work I do.”

“Kid, what little money you make doing your chores pays for the food in your belly and your bedroom. Unless you  _ want _ to start sleeping out in the cuddle pile with the boys?”

Kraglin rolled his eyes, knowing that while Quill wouldn't call the captain’s bluff, it was just a bluff. Yes, most ravagers had to pay to upgrade their complimentary lockers into an actual room, but Yondu made it a policy that anyone under their species’ legal majority or consenting age (whichever came last) got a room to themselves. It was the only reason Kraglin could get one since he spent most his time babysitting Terrans instead of taking jobs.

“Then I'll bet you chores! I'll do your galley shifts for a week!”

Kraglin did hate his galley shifts. However, “You love working in the galley! The cook and his girls baby you and make you treats! You take my vent duties.”

“But I always get attacked by the orloni and Yondu took my shocker!”

“Wouldn't of took it if I didn't have to keep pulling the boys off you because you used it on them.”

“They’re the ones that start it… usually.”

“It's vent duty or nothing,” Kraglin said, turning away from his finished carving to see the kid shift his glare from Yondu to him.

“Fine, but when I do hit it, you gotta make Vesan jelly for me every night for a week!”

_ Of course the brat just wants to sate his addiction instead of trading in his own vent duties. _

“Kid, if you make five perfect shots in a row, I'll make it for you for a whole Terran month.”

“Deal!”

“Deal.”

“Yes! Dessert for a whole month!”

Kraglin didn't bother explaining, for what had to be the millionth time, that no matter how much Vesan jelly tasted like Terran  _ ice cream _ , it was supposed to be an actual meal. He also didn't bother pointing out that when the kid screwed up, he'd be taking the older boy’s vent duties for a month. He'd figure it out soon enough.

Once Kraglin was standing behind the two and out of the line of fire, Quill held up the gun like Yondu had shown him and the captain gently corrected him, one hand on his elbow and the other on his back.

If the position looked almost parental, Kraglin wasn't stupid enough to say anything.

“There, now shoot.”

Quill started to pull the trigger, then paused and lowered the gun slightly. Before Yondu could correct him again, he fired.

To the kid’s credit, he didn't knock his teeth out. Though that could be because the gun flew up and smacked him on the forehead instead.

Kraglin doubled over laughing and Quill spun around to glare at him, all while rubbing at the bright red mark just above his left eyebrow. He stuck his tongue out and the older boy returned the Terran gesture with a smirk.

“Boys,” Yondu chuckled. When they looked at him, he nodded towards the tree. The two turned and Kraglin’s jaw dropped.

There inside the star, if slightly off center, was a smoking crater.

Safe to say, when they left Peter was content even if he still said he preferred his bow since it didn't leave giant bruises on his face, Yondu was confident the boy could at least be trusted not to kill himself or his teammates if he found himself in a firefight, and Kraglin was down fifty units with a month's worth of Vesan jelly hanging over his head.


	3. Sunshine

Sunshine.

That was Yondu’s first thought.

He felt warm and happy and energized.

The feeling sunk into his bones, making him think of the time before Ego when he was still part of the main ravager factions and he and the boys would head down to Solaria for shore leave. He could feel the warmth from the moon’s three yellow suns raining down on him as he relaxed on the sandy beach to drink and gamble on the wave races.

He almost could have thought he was there, except instead of feeling soft sand underneath him, he felt hard metal and instead of the sound of laughter, waves, and engines, all he heard was a soft voice singing in a language Yondu’s translator didn't recognize.

The voice sounded familiar, safe, but he couldn't place it. His mind felt hazy, drugged. He tried to move, to open his eyes, but all he could manage was the slightest twitch of his limbs.

He barely noticed the pain that shot up his leg at the movement because almost immediately the singing stopped and a small hand -- sun warmed sand and golden light -- settled gently on his leg just above where the pain was radiating from.

There was a few moments of silence only broken by Yondu’s deep slow breaths, what he had to assume were the singer’s faster ones, and the faint rumbling of a ship’s engines that was almost unnoticeable after years in space.

Yondu’s focus started to drift towards the pain in his leg that was slowly growing -- claws digging into his flesh and bone, dragging him out of his stupor -- before finally the hand left his leg and the singing resumed. Alongside the unfamiliar words returned the warm sunshine feeling that washed away -- magenta waves lapping at azure banks -- the pain and the drugs were able to retake his mind.

He tried to focus on the words, pick out some sort of pattern, but the only set of repeating sounds he ended up picking out was something along the lines of up-owl-oh… Uh-pow-lo? Uh-paw-lo? No, that wasn't it either.

Whatever.

What was going on?

Where was he?

Who was singing?

Was it some form of torture?

If it was, it wasn't very good. The song wasn't even annoying, let alone torturous. It was actually kind of soothing, like the crap on Quill’s music box had become over time. Not that it'd take anything less than actual torture to get him to admit it.

Peter…

“Captain?”

Yondu opened his eyes, then realized he could open his eyes. He also realized the singing and warm feeling had disappeared at some point during his musings.

Or had it just been a dream?

He could now see he was in one of the rooms near the infirmary set aside for medical use. The chief medic, a Krylorian that only went by Doc, hovered over him.

“Morning, Captain,” they called pulling back to check the screen next to Yondu’s bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” he huffed. His head was killing him. What did he get up to last night? He'd guess a nice round of drinks, but that didn't explain Doc’s hovering. He sat up and Doc yelped.

“Hold on, sir. You’re gonna hurt you-” they cut off, staring at Yondu’s legs.

Yondu looked down with a frown. His left pant leg was cut off just over the knee, revealing bloody bandages that had been sliced open.

Memories filtered in. Him, Kraglin, and Quill had been on a mission. They'd gotten ambushed by some bounty hunters. One of the idiots tossed a grenade before Yondu’s arrow had gotten him. Quill had shot it out of the air, but a piece of shrapnel caught Yondu’s leg. Big piece of metal. Thin, but half as long as his calf. Sunk straight into the bone. Lots of blood. Kraglin had had to help him walk back to the m-ship before, despite Yondu’s protests, sending Quill up to pilot and fussing over the captain. Sure, the twelve-Terran-years-old had taken to flying just as quick and easy as he did shooting, maybe more so, but that didn't mean he needed to be piloting Yondu’s personal ship. And Yondu definitely didn't need to be fused over.

Although, he couldn't actually remember anything past bleeding out on the floor of his ship so maybe a little fussing was in order. He'd still need to yell at Kraglin later though.

Back in the present though, there’s no shrapnel. Just a faint line where his injury had been. Barely even a scar really.

“How long was I out?”

“Only a few hours, according to Kraglin.”

“A few- Doc, I know you’re good, but I remember that injury. No way you fixed me up this good in a few hours.”

Doc shook their head and grabbed a bioscanner. “Don’t make sense,” they muttered, scanning his leg. “No sense. Don’t make sense.”

“Doc?”

“Impossible!” They turned back to the screen next to the bed. “Can’t be…”

“Doc! What’s going on?”

“You’re leg, it’s completely healed.”

“I can see that.”

“No, but your bones were fractured! One was nearly sliced clean through! Now… the fractures are still there, but they’ve healed. Somehow, your injuries aged  _ weeks _ in the short time I was gone checking the stores for stitches. I've never seen anything like this. Are you on any sort of experimental drugs I should know about?”

“Doc, you're the only one I get drugs from. So unless you’ve been getting up to something…”

“Respectfully captain, I'm not stupid enough to believe I could get away with going behind your back to experiment on anyone on this ship, let alone you. If I do find something worth experimenting with, I'd bring it straight to you with the recommendation of using those halfwits we picked up in Wailod as test dummies.” Doc paused, then tilted their head to the side. “That said, I wouldn't say no to a blood sample if you'd be willing. It'd be best to be sure this isn't some warning sign. A miracle hiding a monster, if you will.”

“Just make it quick. If I'm reading you right, then I'm free to go.”

Doc hummed an agreement as they dug out a syringe. “Your leg was my only worry. You took a hit to the head, but not anything bad enough for more than a headache. Still, all the usual. If the headache lasts too long, any nausea or vertigo, you know I'll be discreet.”

“It's what I pay you for.”

Doc chuckled and rolled up his sleeve. They paused to pluck at a bandage on his forearm and Yondu caught sight of a small cut sluggishly bleeding before they fixed it back.

“Curious, it seems like your leg was the only thing healed. Arm out, if you will?”

Yondu watched the needle sink in. “How are the boys?” He didn't remember either being hurt, but he'd also been a bit distracted.

“Kraglin had a minor burn on his shoulder, but it's nothing to worry about as long as he keeps it clean. So if you'd keep on him about that…”

Yondu snorted. “I ain't his mama.”

“I'm well aware of your gender, captain.”

Yondu glared as Doc tucked away the blood sample and started cleaning up. “I ain't his da’ then.”

They just nodded their head. “Quill was the better of you three. Just a couple scrapes. He seemed pretty shaken up though so you might wanna check on him.”

“I ain't  _ his _ da’ either.”

“Of course, Captain. If you'll excuse me, I need to prepare Sym for a supply run. We're running low on a few things and I never did find those stitches.”

“Doc, you're lucky you're a good medic and can be trusted to keep your mouth shut, outside of privacy at least, or I would have tossed you out the airlock years ago.”

“I'm well aware of my worth and exactly how much I can get away with because of it, Captain, but thank you all the same.” Doc bowed their head slightly before disappearing out the door.

Grumbling, Yondu headed towards his quarters to clean up and change clothes, then he could check in on the bridge. Wouldn't do for rumors to be getting out that the captain is anything except hardy.

“What the hell?” he growled when his door opened, revealing a shrimp Terran curled up on his bed. He shot a glare at the vent, only to see that it was still welded shut after the last time the brat had snuck in. Which meant he'd hacked the door lock.

Yondu marched up to the boy and jabbed him in the side with a finger.

Quill let out a yelp, jerking up into a sitting position. He looked up at Yondu with sleepy (Exhausted, really. What had the kid been getting up to in the past couple hours that he was that tired?) eyes. “Yondu?”

“While I'm glad you're getting better at breaking into places, you aren't supposed to be practicing on your captain’s room.”

“Doc let you out?”

“Don't need to be  _ let out _ , but yeah, Doc fixed me all up. If you were thinking you could stay in my room because I was gone…” Yondu trailed off with wide eyes as he realized the boy was tearing up.

“‘M sorry.”

“You should be, but it ain't anything to cry over, boy.”

“Not about the room. Was waiting for you, didn't mean to fall asleep.”

“You shouldn't have come in here in the first place!”

“‘M sorry about you getting hurt. Was my fault. Shouldn't a shot that grenade. Kraglin said you'd be fine before he sent me off, but you lost so much blood and I snuck back and Doc said we just barely got you back in time and that thing had nearly cut your leg in two and you’re an ass but I don't want- Didn't mean- Was all my fault!”

Yondu stared as the kid broke down into full blown sobs, completely lost. It'd been years since he'd had to deal with Quill crying. Kid had never been a crier really, and the few times he did, it was either because of a bad injury or over his mama. But the kid had mostly grown out of the first and the second had been carefully hidden behind closed doors or inside ventilation. At least, as long as Yondu’s suspicions were correct and the boy hadn't actually  _ outgrown _ those as well like Kraglin thought.

Sighing, Yondu knelt down in front of him and patted his shoulder awkwardly. “Hey now, wasn't your fault.”

“Was… Shot… grenade.”

“And if you hadn't it would have blown on top of us, and then I really would have been dead, alongside you and Kraglin.”

“But you nearly-”

“But I didn't. I'm fine, boy. See, good as new.” Yondu patted his leg. “I'm here, alive, and so are you and Kraglin. That's what matters. You did good, Peter.”

“Mean it?” the boy sniffed, scrubbing at his face.

“Yeah, kid. Now stop your whimpering. Ain't befitting a ravager.”

Quill nodded, then threw himself at Yondu.

“You hugging me, boy?”

“‘S a chokehold,” he muttered, tightening his arms slightly. “Reverse chokehold.”

“Sure, brat.”

“Dickbag.”

“Who's been teaching you to curse? They suck.”

“Been watching you. Guess you need to step up your game.”

“Careful boy or I'll let the crew eat you.”

“‘M crew.”

“True, don't change your edibility none though.”

Quill burrowed his face further into Yondu’s shoulder. “‘M glad you're not dead,” he muttered, “even if you are a mean, kidnapping asshole.”

The ravager captain didn't know how to respond to that, so he just wrapped his arms around the boy. He held him close for a moment before shoving him away. “Right, ‘nough of that. Get outta my room and don't let me catch you sneaking in here again.”

“But ‘m tired,” Quill whined, and he looked it. Whatever energy he'd regained during his nap had clearly been wiped away by his crying.

“Then go sleep in your own room,” Yondu snorted and stood up to head into the bathroom. “You best be gone by the time I get out!”

After his shower, the ravager captain dressed himself in clean clothes, swallowed a pain reducer for his headache, tucked a blanket over Quill, sent a message to Kraglin to have him tell Piq to assign the brat extra latrine duties, then headed up to the bridge to yell the crew into shape.


End file.
